


The Open Path

by Balerion_the_Dread22



Series: Homecoming series [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: AU, Dirwolves, Dragons, Elia lives, Elia's children live, F/F, F/M, Incest, Jon is Jaehaerys Targaryen, Jon is a Targaryen, Lyanna Lives, Lyanna is Rhaegar's second wife, Multi, Rhaegar Lives, Rhaegar is not mad, Treachery, Viserys is a decent person and not mad, Visions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-13 13:07:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17488598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Balerion_the_Dread22/pseuds/Balerion_the_Dread22
Summary: Nine years after the end of the Rebellion, Prince Jaehaerys is taken to King's Landing to begin his training as a knight.





	1. Lyanna

**Author's Note:**

> “Home is a room dappled with firelight: there are pictures and books. And when the rain sighs, and the acorns fall, there are patterns of leaves against the drawn curtains. Home is where I was safe. Home is what I fled from.”  
> ― Mervyn Peake, The Gormenghast Novels

**Lyanna**

The rattling of the window panes woke her in the middle of the night. It was the third time this week that a storm held the island in its grasp, but not even the rolling thunder could terrify her as much as the coughing noises coming from her son’s crib.

 _His chest must pain him, my poor boy_ , she thought, pulled down the bedding and placed her naked feet on the carpet beside her bed. Only garbed in her nightdress she felt her skin prickle.

That Rhaegar hadn’t been able to sleep beside her for moons had made it only harder for her. She knew why he had to go, but it didn’t make it any easier to bear the separation. The first time he had left her to fight a  war she had been young and naïve, thinking everything would turn out to be alright with the world, but Rhaegar’s brush with death at the Battle of the Trident had thought her better. War was no game, not even when Rhaegar had assured her for the hundred time that the Ironborn were no danger for the combined armies of the Reach, the Westerlands, the Riverlands and the North. Yet she feared not only for Rhaegar, but also for Ned and her brother Benjen, who had surely joined Ned on the battlefield.

As she walked through the room she tried to be mindful of her footfalls moving over the carpet. Jaehaerys’ room was right beyond the door and Shaena’s and Daenerys’ room right around the corner. That the walls were not particularly thick made it only worse. Thus she and Rhaegar had long limited their nightly activities to Rhaegar’s chambers, because this one was far away from the children.

Yet these thoughts were banished from her mind she when she laid eyes on her youngest child, Daeron. He was awake, his nose running from the cold he had caught over the last week.

“Mama is here, sweetling,” Lyanna whispered to the small silver haired boy. He was nearly three, but too small for his age. His birth had been relatively pleasant, at least compared to Shaena’s, but he had been born nearly a moon too early.

Carefully, she touched his face and gasped at the warmth of his cheeks. The sight of his watery eyes and his running nose frightened worried her even more.

“Come here. Let me hold you,” she whispered to him and picked him the crib. As always, his small hands curled around her neck while Lyanna’s fingers brushed through her son’s soft hair. It was pale and shiny, like a thread of silver. Her oldest Jaehaerys, but commonly called Jae, had inherited her brown hair and her Stark features. Her daughter Shaena, who was shy a year younger than Jae, was blessed with silver hair and dark purple eyes. Her little Daeron was also blessed with the Targaryen looks, but his hair was slightly darker.

“Storm,” Daeron whispered and coughed against her cheek. “Afraid.”

Outside she heard the thrashing of thunder, her dark chamber suddenly illuminated by a flash of light.

“I know,” Lyanna whispered softly and placed a lofty kiss on his cheek. It felt like kissing a furnance. “But we have to be quiet or we will wake your brother and sister.”

“Jae gone,” Daeron said fearfully, his little fist tightening on her shoulder. “Look! Look!”

Lyanna sighed deeply, not wanting to wake Jae, but Daeron kept pointing at the door.

“Alright,” Lyanna agreed and held her finger to her lips. “But we must be silent.”

“Look…look,” Daeron repeated, but his words were swallowed by another coughing fit. “Please.”

Lyanna held him close and moved towards the anteroom, where she found the dark wooden door engraved with a snarling dragon, leading into her son’s room. 

Carefully, she opened the door wide enough to get a look inside the dimly-lit chamber. Through the open slit she got a glimpse at the bed and the nearby table, illuminated by the moonlight falling through the arched windows.

“See,” Daeron whispered and pointed at the bed. “Gone.”

“Gods, you were right, sweetling,” she muttered to herself, yet it was not Jae’s absence that filled her with fear, but the fact that Daeron had known about it. _How_ , she wondered and searched his face. It was not the first time that one of her children showed such strange behaviour. Shaena had once foretold the death of the previous Maester when she was shy three years old, but back then Lyanna had thought it a mere coincidence, though Rhaegar had insisted that it was a sign that their daughter was blessed with the sight. Lyanna had not protested, aware how much Rhaegar believed in his dreams, but hearing such things from the mouth of her little girl was different. This strange incident had filled her with great fear, though over the last years she had learned to brush it aside.

“Dany gone. Shae gone,” Daeron whispered into ear. “Gone.”

“Shssh,” she whispered and patted his cheek as she went to retrieve her cloak. She placed Daeron briefly on the featherbed and fastened the garment on her shoulders, before returning to her boy’s side.

“Do you know where they went?” she asked her little boy after she had lifted him back into her arms.

“The painted room,” Daeron whispered and pointed at the door.

“The Chamber of the Painted Table,” she corrected her son, though she didn’t blame him for his mistake. He had always lacked behind his siblings. His weak constitution had hampered his development or so the Maester had informed her. Lyanna liked Maester Pylos, but in that moment she had wanted to throw him from the Sea Dragon Tower. She didn’t give a flying fuck that Daeron didn’t learn as quickly as Jae or Shaena. He had other things to worry about, namely his health.

The guardsman nearly fell from his chair, but her smile assured him enough to keep him in place. He looked slightly embarrassed and Lyanna realized why. _He must have fallen asleep_ , she guessed. _How else could my son have made it pass the guard?_

Still, she didn’t blame the poor guardsman. Sitting all night in front of a door was not a particularly glorious task and Lyanna never understood the necessity for it. This castle could not be easily taken, even by a great force. The fearsome dragons, gryphons and gargoyles carved into the shining black walls were enough to instil fear into anyone who dared to approach the castle.

When Lyanna first came here, she had loved the grimness of Dragonstone and she loved it still, but as time had passed she was beginning to miss her home. Sometimes she dreamed of walking through the godswood in Winterfell and heard the familiar whispering of the leaves ringing in her ears.

Dragonstone also had a garden. Within grew tall trees, wild roses, thorny hedges and cranberries. Aegon’s garden, as this garden was called, was a pleasant sanctuary, but it failed to give her the same peace as the godswood of Winterfell.

What followed were a good thousand steps, before she reached the Chamber of the Painted Table, located at the top floor of the Stone Drum.

Daeron’s predictions turned out to be true. There near the eastern window stood her son Jae, her daughter Shaena and her good-sister Daenerys also commonly called Dany.

Her son was at least half a head taller than the two girls, the left side of his face illuminated by the flickering oil lamp carried by Dany. Shaena stood on his left side, her gaze fixed on the stormy sea below.

It was her oldest who noticed her presence first and turned around, an expression of surprise washing over his solemn face.

“Mother,” he said, his dark eyes darting first to Daeron and then back to her. “How did you know?”

“Daeron told me,” she informed him, trying to sound upset. “He must have heard you slip out of your rooms. That’s the only possible explanation.”

“Probably,” her son agreed, his lips twisting into a smile as he touched Shaena’s shoulder. Her little girl shuddered and turned around as if she hadn’t even been aware of lingering Lyanna’s presence. “Forgive us, but Shaena had a nightmare.”

“We came here to show her that there is no reason to be afraid,” Dany explained. “Please don’t tell mother about it.”

“It was no mere nightmare,” Shaena replied in a quiet and assured tone. She could be a minx and depending on the occasion very bubbly, but then there were days when she would hide away in her room, ignoring everyone around her. “What I saw felt real.”

Lyanna nodded her head in understanding and searched her daughter’s face. Like Dany and Jae she was garbed in a white shift, which gave her daughter an almost ghostly appearance.

“What did you see?” Lyanna asked softly. “Do you want to tell me about it, pup?”

Shaena frowned, her grey eyes narrowed in displeasure. Lyanna knew this look. It was the look her daughter carried whenever she was particularly annoyed.

“Tell her already, Shae!” her son prodded impatiently and patted his sister’s shoulder. Shaena brushed his hand away and wrinkled her nose, before she finally spoke.

“I saw a mighty kraken attacking to Dragonstone,” she replied in a trembling voice, her grey eyes flickering to her bare feet. “It tried to swallow me whole, its tentacles pulling me beneath the rolling sea. I was drowning, mother, I was dying and this man, this terrible man, was laughing at me. He looked so strange. One of his eyes was as blue as the summer sky and the other, hidden beneath a patch, was black as ink. It was an evil eye, mother, an eye full of malice. And his lips were blue…like the lips of a corpse, a dead man. Whoever he was, he is evil…evil.”

“The kraken is the symbol of House Greyjoy, sister. Father’s last letter must be the source of our nightmares, but have no fear. Now that he is taking the battle to Pyke it won’t take long before the enemy is defeated,” her oldest son explained with utmost conviction and jerked his head at the long table, dominating the room. Dany followed after him like a shadow, lightening the darkness around them. Six moons ago, Rhaegar and his advisors had assembled here, after the whispers of rebellion had reached King’s Landing. Promptly, Rhaegar had gathered half the Targaryen Fleet and had sailed for Casterly Rock. As her son had rightly said, only a moon ago Rhaegar had informed them that he intended to take the battle to Pyke. They had also heard of a great victory at Seaguard and another battle near Sea Dragon Point, but Lyanna knew that Rhaegar was sparing them the bloody details of the campaign.

“I saw it,” Shaena insisted stubbornly and touched Lyanna’s arm, her grey eyes wide in fear. “I am not lying, mother. I saw the terrible man and he was trying to hurt me. You must believe me.”

“I do believe you, sweetling,” Lyanna assured her and clutched Daeron tighter to her chest. He hung around her neck like a little monkey, his soft hair tickling her nose. She leaned down, brushed Shaena’s hair out of her face and kissed her cheek. “I do believe you, but your brother is right. There is nothing to fear. More than enough ships guard this island and not even the Ironborn would be able to scale these walls. Mayhaps, you are only fretting about your father. The gods know, I am fretting about him night and day.”

“Your mother speaks true, Shae,” Dany added. “I don’t think a kraken could climb this tower and steal you away. That’s impossible. Besides, Ser Bonifer and Ser Gerold Hightower would never allow it.”

Said Ser Bonifer Hasty, was the Captain of the Guards of Dragonstone while Ser Gerold Hightower had remained here to add his strength. Lyanna liked both, though by now Ser Bonifer had become more familiar to her. He had entered the Queen Mother’s service barely a year after Princess Daenerys’ birth and had since then become one of Queen Rhaella’s confidents. At first, Lyanna didn’t think much of it, but now she knew the truth. Ser Bonifer Hasty was more than just a loyal subject, though she doubted his displays of affection for his Queen went further than a kiss on the hand. There were different kinds of companionship and it seemed the Queen Mother found such a companion in the old knight that had  once crowned her Queen of Love and Beauty.

“Exactly,” Lyanna agreed and offered her hand to her daughter. “And now let us return to bed, before someone notices our absence.”

Shaena looked unhappy with her answer, but took her hand, though she remained silent, probably to show her displeasure. Dany followed without protest, probably relieved that Lyanna had promised to keep her nightly adventure to herself. Her son made another attempt to comfort his sister, but she ignored him, probably angered that he dismissed her vision as mere fears. Only Dany was allowed to speak to her in hushed whispers, which was no surprise to Lyanna. The two were aunt and niece, but barely a year apart and had shared a room since they were able to walk.

The first rays of sunlight were falling through the high windows as Lyanna joined the Queen Mother or Rhaella as she preferred to be called.

The Queen Mother was breaking her fast with boiled eggs, bread and dried fruits when Lyanna took her seat at the table.

“I heard the children went on a nightly adventure?” the Queen Mother asked, her voice laced with amusement as she folded the letter she had been reading.

Lyanna glanced at it curiously, but ignored her urge to ask about the content. Even from afar she could see the broken wax sigil of house Targaryen.

“Who told you about the children?” Lyanna asked in return.

The Queen Mother chuckled and took a sip from her cup of tea.

“One of Rachel’s girls saw the children climb up to the Chamber of the Painted Table.”

“Aye,” Lyanna admitted and sighed deeply. “But it was done out of good intentions. Shaena had a nightmare. She dreamed that a massive kraken will attack Dragonstone and my son believed that showing her that there is no sign of such krakens would help to ease her fears. Well, I am not sure if it worked, but I think we should let it go. I also think we should allow them to sleep. It was hard enough to get Daeron settled.”

The Queen Mother had listened with rapt attention, but her amused smile had disappeared the moment Lyanna had mentioned Daeron’s sickly constitution.

“Speaking of krakens,” the Queen Mother repeated and shoved the folded piece of paper over the table. “It seems the war will soon be over.”

Lyanna sighed in relief and devoured the letter greedily. Rhaegar’s letter spoke of a sea battle near Fair Isle and the siege of Pyke that had ended in great butchery. Two of Balon Greyjoy’s sons had perished in the war and the youngest had been taken prisoner. Rhaegar also wrote of Ned and Benjen, assuring her that they were safe and well. Yet the the greatest relief was that he hoped to return in three moons.

“Did you read the part about Viserys?” the Queen Mother asked Lyanna, her voice laced with a hint of displeasure. “I told Rhaegar to keep him out of the fighting, but it seems my unruly son managed to forgo my wishes.”

“Probably,” Lyanna agreed, but only because she lacked a better answer. She hardly knew Viserys, because he had only lived a year with them at Dragonstone, before he had been sent to Winterfell. Ned mentioned him of course, but letters from the North came sparingly, though Lyanna cherished each of them. She had never met her nephew Robb and her two nieces Sansa and Arya, but reading about them was better than nothing. “But I think it is only natural that he wants to be part of the fighting. He is nearly a man grown.”

“Of course,” the Queen Mother replied and leaned over the table to squeeze Lyanna’s hand.” But for me he will always be a little boy that needs to be protected.”

Lyanna returned her smile. ”Well, at least Rhaegar is finally coming home.”

True to his word Rhaegar returned three moons later, though Lyanna was surprised that he decided to right straight for Dragonstone instead of King’s Landing. She had his heart, but that didn’t keep him from attending to his kingly duties.

 _He must have other reasons_ , she mused as she smoothed out her dress. It was a simple wool dress, dyed blue and embellished with a grey wolf.

“Do I look pretty?” Dany asked Lyanna and pointed at her dress. It was made of pale violet silk and decorated with small pearls. Shaena, who was seated next to Dany, looked untidy and wild as ever. Lyanna even spotted a stain on the hem of her long-sleeved dress.

“You always look pretty, Dany,” Shaena remarked impatiently and was already moving towards the door. “Hurry up. I want to see father.”

“Wait for us!” Lyanna called after her and picked Daeron from his crib. He clung to her shoulder and sucked in a deep breath as they climbed down the steps, making their way to the Great Hall.

The Queen Mother was already waiting for them and had donned her finest dress. It was made of flowing black silk, a shining dragon embellished on her breast. The bright red cloak wrapped around her shoulders looked like the wings of a dragon and in her faded silver hair she wore a band of silver, engraved with beautiful gemstones.

Her daughter smiled brightly when she laid eyes on her mother and quickly reached for her hand.

Her oldest was also clad in his finer clothing, a linen tunic, black breeches, polished boots and an equally black cloak, held together by a silver clasp engraved with a shining ruby.

“You look like a raven, brother,” Shaena remarked jestingly and promptly received a pat on the head. Shaena frowned and rubbed her head while Dany was bursting with laughter.

By the time they had stepped out into the courtyard everyone in the castle had assembled. As part of the Queen’s household, Lyanna stood next to Rhaella. They were flanked by the household guard, their crimson cloaks shining like rubies in the bright sunlight, bursting through the thick grey clouds. It had been raining in the morning, but it seemed the sun had decided to show its face as if to greet Rhaegar’s return.

A handful of heartbeats later Rhaegar rode into the courtyard, seated atop a mighty black horse. He wore his black armour, embellished with his numerous red rubies. Next to him rode, Ser Arthur Dayne, his snow-white cloak in sharp contrast to Rhaegar’s appearance.

The Queen Mother was the first one to embrace Rhaegar, her thin arms barely able to reach around his shoulders.

“Welcome back, my son,” she whispered, before Rhaegar shifted his attention to Lyanna. He graced her with one of his rare smiles, before he leaned down to kiss her. From the corner of her eyes she noticed her son’s embarrassed look.

“I hope you haven’t forgotten about me,” Rhaegar remarked and touched Daeron’s silver locks. Her son shook his head and buried his head on her shoulder.

Rhaegar chuckled and shifted his attention to Jae.

“I hope you haven’t forgotten about me either?” he asked teasingly and ruffled their son’s freshly cut hair. “Ah, has your mother forced you to shear it off?”

Jae frowned, a half-smile curling on his lips. “I suppose so. It wasn’t so bad.”

“Pah, he was whining about it like a little girl,” Shaena piped in and jerked her head at Dany. “Right, Dany?”

Dany laughed, a mischievous smile tugging on her lips. On the first glance she appeared to be a shy and quiet girl, but Lyanna knew that she was always the first one to partake in Shaena’s naughty ploy. The angelic smile was only a façade.

“Please!” Dany imitated Jae’s whine. “Not another inch! Please, mother! Spare my hair! Please!”

“I said no such thing!” Jae grumbled, his cheeks crimson from embarrassment. His quiet demeanour was often mistaken for humbleness, but Lyanna knew her son better than that. He had quite the temper, though she doubted Shaena’s and Dany’s teasing would be enough to wake the dragon from his slumber.

Shaena and Dany laughed, though the Queen Mother’s sharp look made them stop.

“I think we should retreat inside. I am sure you and your men are in need of rest.”

“Of course,” Rhaegar replied and patted Jae’s shoulder. “Do not fret. I begged for every inch when your mother cut my hair.”

Supper proved a private affair. They supped on fresh oysters and salmon accompanied by Arbor Gold from the wine cellars of Dragonstone.

Rhaegar and Arthur entertained them with stories about the war, though the Queen Mother gave them sharp looks whenever their tales were becoming inappropriate for the ears of the children. Still, that didn’t keep the children from peppering them with questions.

Truly, it was no wonder that Rhaegar retired early, though Lyanna couldn’t join him yet. She first brought Daeron to the Maester, prepared his tea and put him to bed. Once he had fallen asleep, she went to look after Jae and Dany and Shae. Not much to her surprise, she found Rhaegar in Shaena’s room. Jae was also there, listening intently to Shaena’s recount of her strange nightmare.

Lyanna remained standing at the door, not daring to interrupt them. Once Shaena had recounted her nightmare, she wound her arms around Rhaegar’s neck and laid her head on his shoulder.

“What do you think it means, father?” Jae asked in serious tone. “Was it a dream or a vision?”

Rhaegar sighed deeply and smoothed his hand through Shaena’s hair.

“I don’t know,” Rhaegar admitted. He could have brushed it off as nonsense, but that was not Rhaegar’s way. Lyanna knew that he had been plagued by strange visions since early childhood. “But I know this: the Ironborn are defeated. No kraken will be able to harm you.”

“See,” Dany added. “There is no reason to be afraid.”

“I am not afraid,” Shaena complained, her voice muffled by Rhaegar’s shoulder. “I was just worried.”

“Good,” Rhaegar added warmly and kissed her brow. “And now I want you to go back to bed. It’s getting late and I heard you have your lessons to attend to on the morrow.”

A round of complaints could be heard, but Lyanna slipped away before Rhaegar could have noticed her presence. Instead, she slipped down the corridor, making her way to Rhaegar’s chambers.

Lyanna waited patiently, walking up and down the room, as she listened to howling wind. She soon grew bored and sat down on the bed covered with a silken duvet. She pulled her legs to her chest and sank even deeper, her eyes darting to the colourful carpet spread over the ground.

It was the sound of the creaking door that caused her to lift her head. It was Rhaegar, his face illuminated by the moonlight.

He smiled when he saw her seated at the bed and quickly pulled off his cloak. Lyanna rose to her feet and received his heated kiss with great eagerness. It had been too long since she felt the tingling feeling of warmth pooling between her legs. Rhaegar seemed just as eager, his dark eyes narrowed and his fingers moving over her shoulder all down to her waist, to pull her flush against his body.

She felt his heat, her senses unnaturally heightened. Her entire body prickled with anticipating when she felt his hands brushing over her naked skin. Once she was done undressing, she brushed his hands away and helped him pull off the rest of his clothing. Soon his hands were seeking her naked skin, longing to touch her, but every time she brushed his hand away, teasing him. Her behaviour earned her a soft chuckle as he lay down behind her. She leaned into him, their bodies pressed together. His hands stroked her breasts, before touching her between her legs. She felt like burning alive, his cool lips brushing over her shoulder the only relief.

When they were done, she nestled closer, revelling in his warmth.

“The children look well,” Rhaegar remarked and kissed her neck.

“Shaena’s strange dream riled them up,” she remarked and blew her hair out of her face. “But I think your words assured her.”

“You heard us?” Rhaegar asked and smiled lovingly. “Well, I tried my best. I still need to visit Daeron. I heard his coughing is getting worse.”

“He just needs rest,” Lyanna told him. “I am glad he is finally asleep.”

Rhaegar nodded his head and grew suddenly very quiet. Lyanna knew the expression displayed on his face. There was something he wanted to tell her, something unpleasant.

“What is it?” she asked straight to the point.

“I think it is time,” Rhaegar said in a quiet, but determined tone. “Jae is nearly nine years old. I am going to take him to King’s Landing. He cannot stay here forever.”

Lyanna didn’t like the sound of it, but she always knew that the day would come when her oldest pup would leave her.

“I know,” she whispered and pulled his arm around her shoulder. “But I am going to miss him terribly.”

“You have Daeron and Shae,” he assured her and kissed her cheek. “And our son is very eager to leave. He longs for Aegon’s and Rhaenys’ presence. Visits are not enough.”

“I have Daeron and Shae,” Lyanna repeated sadly. “But you will be gone as well.”

“I will return soon,” he promised her, his warm breath touching her cheek. “I promise.”

…


	2. Jaehaerys

**Jaehaerys**

Jaehaerys pressed his face against the painted window, the world around him blurred and distant, though he was still able to make out the busy movements of the servants in the courtyard below. He felt as if he was read to burst with excitement, his hand fumbling nervously with the clasp of his cloak. It was a fine cloak, the eyes of the three-headed dragon made of three shining rubies. Granted his cloak had not as many rubies as his father’s, but he was still thankful that his grandmother made him such a grand gift for his ninth nameday.

“There you are,” his Lady Mother’s soft voice echoed in his ears, the featherlight touch of her hand brushing over his shoulder, causing him to turn around. “You should speak to Dany. Your father is eager to leave.”

Jae smiled at his mother, though he didn’t take her offered hand. He was nine years old and soon he would start squiring for Ser Oswell Whent. Just the thought of it filled him with pride and joy. He had always dreamed to be a knight like in the numerous stories Rhaenys had read to him as a little boy. He had loved the stories about Aemon the Dragonknight, though in later years he had come to admire the Kings as well. His grandmother liked to read him stories about his namesake King Jaehaerys and he certainly admired him, but his favourite King was still Daeron the Young Dragon, who had conquered Dorne shy ten and four years of age. His grandmother had laughed in amusement when he told her about it, reminding him gently that Daeron paid dearly for his brazen actions. As always, Jae had thought about his grandmother’s words. She was after all much older and wiser than him. In the end he found himself agreeing with her, though not completely. _Daeron should have been smarter than to trust the Dornish_ , he had concluded, though he had kept these thoughts to himself. Aegon’s and Rhaenys’ mother was a Princess from Dorne and he didn’t wish to appear as if he held any sort of hostility against the Dornish.

“Stop your dreaming,” his mother’s chiding voice reminded him as they climbed up the swirling steps towards the Sea Dragon Tower. Upon their entrance, Dany and Shaena were seated at a large table, stacked with numerous books and old dusty tomes. The Maester was also there, pointing at the wall, covered with a large map of Westeros and parts of Essos, though the two girls had stopped listening the moment his mother had entered the room.

“Jaehaerys wants say his goodbyes,” his mother informed the Maester. “I think we should give them privacy.”

“Of course, my Lady,” the Maester replied and slipped out of the room. Jae had always liked him, though Shae claimed he was boring and smelled of raven shit. His sister always said such unkind things about other people, though his mother called it the signs of the wolfsblood. His grandmother certainly didn’t approve Shaena’s bluntness, though his sister showed little regard for the rules their grandmother tried to impose on her. _Rules are made to be broken,_ she would tell him whenever she received another punishment. _But it makes life all the more enjoyable._

“I will wait outside,” his mother assured them with a warm smile and closed the door behind her. “But hurry up or your father will leave without you,” she added teasingly.

Jae rolled his eyes, knowing very well that his father would never leave without him. _He promised me._

Shaena rolled her eyes when saw him standing there at the entrance. Dany had been very angry with him after she heard of his plans. Jae had tried to explain to her why he had to go, but she had ignored him ever since. He had made more attempts in the following weeks, but without success.

“Stop standing there like a lost kitten, brother!” Shaena snapped and pulled on Dany’s shoulder who decided to study the colourful rug beneath her slippers. “Stop staring at the floor, Dany! You are being ridiculous!”

Shaena’s word seemed to move something in Dany and she finally lifted her head, her purple eyes meeting his. Frowning like this, she looked even prettier. As so often she wore a purple gown, accentuated with pale violet trimmings, her two favourite colours combined. Her hair was braided out of her face and fastened atop her head with a ruby pin, a gift from Rhaenys to her last nameday.

“Are you really going?” she asked, her voice laced with sore disappointment. “Why now? My brother wouldn’t force you to go…,” she trailed off, angry tears glittering in her eyes.

“I told you,” he repeated for the hundred time. “I am going to be a knight. That’s what I have always wanted. Besides, I will come back and visit you.”

Dany frowned, but her features softened after hearing his last words. “Viserys is my brother and I haven’t seen him more than a handful of times. I can already foresee how it will be. You are going to like King’s Landing so much that you won’t come back to us.”

Shaena, who had been listening to their conversation in obvious frustration, decided to interrupt.

“He won’t,” she said and patted Dany’s shoulder. “The Dornish won’t make life easy for him. He will be back with us within a year.”

“You can’t know that,” Jae protested angrily. “You have never been to King’s Landing.”

His sister grinned and craned her neck to look at him.

“Stop being so naïve, brother. Aegon and Rhaenys might like you, but the Queen certainly won’t. To the Dornish we are bastards and our mother is a whore who bewitched our father with magic.”

Jae swallowed hard, all his hopes and dreams suddenly dimmed. He knew of course, that the Dornish had no high opinion of his mother and for that matter Jae and his siblings, but this was the first time Shae had voiced it so bluntly. Even Dany looked stunned, her rosy lips lightly agape as she stared at Shaena.

“Who told you all this?” Jae asked. “I mean the part about our mother.”

“I heard one of Rhaenys’ girls talking about it. It was that nosy girl who refused to dance with you,” Shaena explained and started to rummage through the pockets of her dress long-sleeved dress. “ _I won’t dance with a bastard, not even a royal one_ , I heard her say. Well, later I spat into her cup to pay her back for her insolent words.”

“You did?” Dany asked in surprise. “And she drank all of it?”

“All of it,” Shaena confirmed with a bright grin, stepped towards Jae and pressed something in his hand. Opening his hand he saw some sort of black stone, though within the blink of a moment the stone had turned navy blue.

“What is it?” Jae asked, trying to hide his lack of knowledge. He hated when his little sister knew more than him.

“I bought the stone from a woodswitch during our last stay in Driftmark,” Shaena explained and pointed at the stone. “She told me this stone protects against poisons. If the stone turns red it means that there is something afoot.”

“How can you be sure she didn’t lie to you?” Dany asked curiously, all her previous sadness.

“I tested it,” Shae replied proudly. “I stole herbs from the Maester’s study and prepared a tea. It was no real poison, but the book said that these herbs can lead to terrible stomach cramps. Well, it worked. The stone turned blood red. See, that is why I want you to have it. The Dornish Queen’s brother is said to know everything about poisons. Keep the stone close and take care what you eat.”

Jae nodded his head, fascinated by the stone and slightly bothered by his sister’s ominous warning.

Dany, who looked suddenly very fearful, bridged the distance to embrace him, her small arms barely able to reach around his body. Jae was surprised, but relieved that she had forgotten about her past anger.

“Don’t fret about Shae’s words. The Dornish can’t frighten me,” he declared bravely, though his stomach twisted painfully when he imagined meeting the Queen. _Does she really hate me_ , he wondered briefly, but brushed these distracting thoughts away, before they were able to take hold of his mind. Instead he brushed his hand over Dany’s shoulder and touched her silver hair. “But I promise you. I will come back.”

Dany shook her head, a stubborn expression evident on her face.

“Swear it,” she demanded and patted her hand on her chest, close to her heart. “Do it like a knight would do it.”

He sighed deeply, doing as she bid him, though he was no real knight yet.

“I swear it.”

“Good, but don’t forget it,” she said at last, lifted herself on her toes and kissed his cheek, before stepping aside, to allow Shaena to hug him one last time.

“That was unnecessary, Dany,” Shaena added jestingly. “My brother can be a fool, but he would never break a promise to you.”

“I may be a fool, but you are a pain in the ass,” Jae replied and let go of her. “Still, I am going to miss you, little sister.”

“Go or Dany’s is going to drown us in a puddle of tears!” Shaena grumbled and rubbed her face.

“You are the one crying,” Dany remarked in obvious amusement. “Not me.”

Jae nodded his head and smiled at them, before opening the door.

Before stepping outside, he took one last look at them, trying to memorize their appearance. He intended to keep his promise, but then he would be a knight and no longer a little boy.

He smiled, touched his cheek and slipped Shae’s stone in the vest of his cloak. Then he stepped outside to join his grandmother, mother and father.

“There you are,” his mother said for the second time that day and clutched him to her chest. Then she let go of him and cradled his face between her hands. “Now listen carefully, my son. My father gave Ned this advice when he was leaving for the Eyrie. Try to stay out of fights, but if you have to fight, win.”

“A good advice,” his grandmother agreed and leaned down to place a kiss on his cheek. Daeron was also there, his arms wound around his grandmother’s neck. His smiled at Jae, his silver hair in complete disarray. _He will change the most_ , Jae thought and smoothed his brother’s hair, before leaning down to place a kiss on his cheek. _But he will also be mother’s comfort._

“You will take good care of mother, will you?” he asked his little brother, who returned his smile, but didn’t speak. Yet Jae had no need of an answer to understand what he wanted to say. His quiet smile was enough.

“It is time,” Jae heard his father’s voice echoing behind him. He was already seated on his horse, his black cloak billowing behind him like the wings of a bat. “We need to leave or our ship is going to leave without us.”

Jae gave him a look of disbelief.

“Surely, the ship wouldn’t leave without the King?” Jae asked in disbelief as he climbed on his horse and led hit towards his father. “Lord Valeryon won’t leave without us, won’t he?”

“Lord Monford has a strange sense of humour, my son,” his father replied sarcastically. “Don’t tempt him.”

Ser Arthur Dayne laughed as he led his horse pass Jae and his father. “But nobody can deny his abilities as Master of Ships. Nobody loves his ships more than Lord Monford. If it was possible he would take them to bed.”

“Indeed,” his father agreed and turned around to smile at mother. She smiled back at him and waved her hand, though Jae hardly dared to look at her. He had prided himself on his lack of tears, but now he felt tears burning in his eyes. _It is only the wind_ , he reminded himself. _The bloody wind._

Much to his relief, Lord Monford awaited them in company of his bastard brother Aurane Waters and a good dozen of spears. Lord Monford was a handsome man, graced with silver hair and a taste for lavish clothing. Today he wore a sea-green cloak of silk, fastened with a white seahorse made of ivory and gold. His bastard brother’s garments were simpler, but he had no need of fine clothing to improve his appearance. He had an aristocratic face and was graced with shining grey-green eyes. His hair was even lighter, a tread of spun silver spilling over his broad shoulders.

“We can leave, your Grace,” Lord Monford replied and dipped his head. His bastard brother smiled as he laid eyes on Jae.

Jae knew that his charming smiles couldn’t be trusted. _He is a trickster_ , Shaena had remarked after Aurane Waters had danced with her during a feast held in honour of Dany’s eight nameday. He had in fact danced with every lady in the castle, even his mother, who had jested with father, that Aurane looked like him. Later that night Jae had spotted said Aurane Waters with one of Rachel’s girls, loud gasps leaving her mouth as he pressed her against the wall.

“Isn’t she a beauty, my Prince?” Lord Monford remarked to Jae, who had been lost to his memories. He was pointing at the white galley, her green and white sails fluttering in the wind. “It’s the newest ships in our fleet.”

It was indeed a beautiful ship and agreed with Lord Monford, though he was still a bit nervous about the impending sea travel. He knew how to swim, but the sea was stormy and dangerous. Jae would have certainly preferred the saddle of his horse.

“What is the name of this ship?” Jae asked, searching his father’s face.

His father smiled down at him and pointed at the freshly-painted writing.

“Moondancer,” Jae read and recalled that the Princess who had ridden the dragon Moondancer had been wed to a Lord of Driftmark. The Princess’ name escaped him momentarily, but he recalled the dragon she had ridden from a painting he had seen in Master Pylos’ books. The dragon called Moondancer had been slender of built and had pale green skin, but her horns, crests and wingbones had been wide as snow. Jae also recalled that Moondancer had been devoured by the dragon Sunfyre, though the smaller had managed mortally wound her enemy. “A beautiful name, my Lord. May she get us safely to King’s Landing.”

“She will, my Prince,” Lord Monford assured him and led them aboard. “She will.”

Jae followed behind his father and threw one last glance at the stormy island that had been his home.

Then he turned around and “flew away” on Moondancer, just as he had imagined it a thousand times in his silly boyhood dreams, though his dragon had looked slightly different than Moondancer.

The dragon from his dreams had wings as white as fresh-fallen snow and eyes as bright as a pair of rubies.

All he needed was a dragon egg.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Greyjoy Rebellion happened later in this story than in canon. I also made some other changes, specifically to the ages of the Stark children. I want to give them more of a central role, but that is hard if they are so young.
> 
> Sansa was born in 285 instead of 286
> 
> Arya was born in 286 instead of 289
> 
> Bran was born in 289 instead of 290
> 
> Rickon has yet to be born, but is already on his way
> 
> In regards to the Targs. There are no changes:
> 
> Rhaenys was born in 280
> 
> Aegon was born in 282 ( around new-year)
> 
> Jaehaerys was born at the beginning of 283
> 
> Daenerys was born at the beginning of 284
> 
> Shaena was born somwhere in 285
> 
> Daeron was born in 289
> 
> In regard to existing betrothals: Rhaenys is betrothed to Willas Tyrell, the heir to the Reach, Aegon is betrothed to Myrcella Lannister (Jaime's daughter) and Viserys is betrothed to Ysilla Royce, Lord Yohn Royce's only daughter. None of Lyanna's children is yet betrothed nor is Daenerys. Specifically Daenerys's future betrothal will hinge on Rhaella's decision. Rhaegar respects his mother's wishes in this matter.


	3. Rhaenys

**Rhaenys**

A canvas of blue silk spread over the city of her forbearers as her father and his brave companions returned from their campaign against the rebellious Ironborn. It seemed the gods themselves looked kindly on her father or that was at least what the High Septon had told to her Lady Mother only hours ago after they had left the Great Sept of Baelor to thank the gods for her father's safe return. Her mother had never voiced that she held much faith in the Seven, but she nonetheless tried to appear as pious as her grandmother Queen Rhaella. Every week her Lady Mother went to attend the mass and expected Rhaenys to accompany her. The High Septon, a pious man hailing from the Reach, was most pleased by this, though Rhaenys couldn't bring herself to like him. He was the kind of man who preached to forgo water for whine, but from the servants she had heard that he liked to call for pretty girls to attend to his every need. _A false zealot is worse than a honest man of immoral tendencies_ , she thought and watched as her father led the procession up Aegon's hill.

The streets were packed, the cheers of the crowd following after her father like a shadow. Yet when she saw unhorse and climb up the steps she saw no smile gracing his lips. Rhaenys believed to know why. Her father had not relished marching off to war. He was no man of the sword, but a man who preferred to fight his battles through negotiations. Still, that didn't keep him from attending to his kingly duties. Barely a day after the news of rebellion had reached their ears her father had departed for Dragonstone to assemble the royal fleet and to sail for Casterly Rock.

 Rhaenys shared her father’s dislike for violence. She had been merely three namedays old, but she still recalled the moons they had been scooped up in the Red Keep while her father had waged a war against the pretender Robert Baratheon. Day and night, she had prayed for his safe return and somehow the gods must have heard her, because her father had returned alive and victorious, though it was Ser Barristan Selmy who had defeated the mighty Stag. Her father had even composed a song for him, which they played every year on the anniversary of the Battle of the Trident, to recall the folly of war.

Riding next to her father was the reason said war had been fought or at least that is what her relatives liked to insist. Rhaenys loved her mother and held great affections for all her relatives, but in that matter she couldn't bring herself to agree. It was true, that her father had taken a second wife, albeit their marriage had never been officially accepted by the Faith, but Rhaenys could never bring herself to begrudge his existence. Had he been a twisted little monster, she might have come to hate him, but he had won her heart the moment he had called her sister. 

Now he was no longer a babe. He had grown several inches since she last laid eyes on him and he had long shed the soft features so common to young children. No, his long face had only grown sharper and his freshly-cut hair only helped to reinforce this impression. 

"Our brother looks well," Aegon remarked, his voice laced with excitement. Their Lady Mother had taken great care to dress him properly. A shining black cloak was wrapped around his shoulders and his silver hair was neatly trimmed and braided out of his face. As always, there was something mischievous in his bearing, something very childlike. He had been pleading with their father for over a year to send for their brother, but only a moon ago they had received word that their brother would finally join them at court. Rhaenys believed the reason for their father’s hesitation had been her Lady mother's weak health, but she had long learned to keep out of her father’s and mother's business. Theirs was not a marriage of love, though they were always civil in her presence. _No, father's heart resides in Dragonstone,_ she knew.

"He does," she agreed and craned her head to look at her mother, who climbed down the steps to meet their father. She looked much better, but her pale gaunt, the evidence of her failing health. Nevertheless, her mother looked beautiful in her flowing dress of red silk and the small rubies braided into her inky hair streaked with grey.

She greeted their father, before turning around to look at Rhaenys and Aegon. "The children have been eagerly awaiting your return."

 Their father smiled warmly.

 "I am very pleased to see you all," he declared and patted Jae’s shoulder, who had been grinning at her and Aegon throughout the whole exchange. Had it been a different occasion he would have run up to them and embraced them. “As promised, I brought your brother.”

"I am pleased to have you here, brother," Aegon recited the proper words, though the mischievous smile playing on his lips showed his real feelings in this matter.

"I am also pleased to have you here, brother," Rhaenys agreed and leaned down to place a kiss on her brother's cheek, before making space for her mother. Her face was an unreadable mask, but the way she fisted the seam of her dress told her that felt discomfort.

"Be welcome, Prince Jaehaerys. I hope you will be a _loyal_ companion to your brother Prince Aegon," she greeted their brother in a curt tone and quickly shifted her attention back to their father.

"We should go inside," she suggested. "A feast has been prepared in your honour, husband."

"I thank you," their father thanked their mother and leaned down to place a chaste kiss on her hand. Then he straightened himself and led the way. Behind him followed the Kingsguard, six white cloaks snapping in the wind. There was Ser Gerold Hightower, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Arthur Dayne the Sword of the Morning, Ser Oswell Whent, Ser Lyle Crakehall, Ser Victor Tyrell and the newest member, Ser Benjen Stark, who had successfully defended Prince Viserys life during a heated battle. Only Ser Barristan was missing, who had returned to Winterfell in company of Lord Stark to guard her Uncle Viserys. 

"Hah, now I can finally speak plainly!" Aegon whispered in relief and slung his arm around their brother's shoulder, eying him more closely.

"Your hair is much shorter," he remarked after a brief moment.

 Jae smiled and jerked his head at Aegon's hair. “Your hair is also much shorter than usual."

 "Indeed," Aegon confirmed and chuckled. "Well, I think the short hair fits you, brother. Now tell me. How is grandmother? How are Daenerys and Shaena? Did it sadden them to be parted from you?"

"Daenerys was most upset, but Shaena was able to calm her," Jae replied and lifted his head to look at Rhaenys. "I thank you for the fine nameday gift, dear sister. The _Conquest of Dorne_...I always wanted to read it.”

Seeing him smile filled her heart with joy. He had always been such a morose child. To see him smile was like sunlight bursting through the dark clouds.

"In truth, it was Aegon's idea. I assume you have devoured it?"

 "More than once," her brother confirmed enthusiastically.

As one of her Aegon's companions, Jae was seated next to him. Rhaenys was seated with her ladies, among them her two cousins Tyene and Obara. As expected, Obara eyed her Jae with a mixture of curiosity and mistrust, though Rhaenys believed Obara's ill mood stemmed more from the dress she been asked to wear for this special occasion. Her other three ladies hailed from the Reach and the Stormlands. There was Lady Desmera Redwyne, the only daughter of Lord Redwyne, Lady Elinor Tyrell and at last Lady Joanna Connington, Lord Jon’s Connington only daughter, though said girl showed little resemblance to her grim-faced father. She was like her Lady Mother Cersei Lannister graced with golden locks and sea-green eyes reminiscent of jade. 

Aegon’s group of companions showed hardly any Dornish representation, though that was no surprise. Unlike Rhaenys, Aegon had never visited Dorne and preferred the company of Harrold Hardyng, a boy who had been her father's hostage ever since she could remember, though that didn't prevent Aegon from befriending him. Another one of his companion was Robb Stark, who had arrived scarce a year ago. He was a handsome youth of ten, graced with the fair red hair of the Tully's. Seated next to Harrold Hardyng was Joffrey Connington, who shared his twin sister's golden hair and his mother's prideful character. Next to him sat the Redwyne twins, followed by Loras Tyrell, a boy as pretty as a rose, but very talented with the sword or at least that is what Aegon had told her. Left from her brother sat their cousin Prince Quentyn Martell, a boy plain of face, but good-natured in character, though Rhaenys couldn't help but to notice the sour looks he was giving his brother Jae. Her Lady Mother had called him to court to give her brother Aegon a proper Dornish companion, but Aegon was little taken with their cousin, calling him boring and pampered. Rhaenys had to agree, but that was no surprise. Quentyn had never visit any other place than Dorne.

"Here, brother!" Aegon said cheerfully and filled a pinch of Red Dornish into Jae's golden cup. "Have a taste of this one. I like it far better than Arbor Gold."

 If the Redwyne twins were insulted by Aegon’s words it didn't show on their faces. They even chuckled and poured themselves their second cup.

 Jae eyed the substance with great interest, before pouring it down his throat. Rhaenys knew the taste of Dornish wine well. It was spicy and hot and as expected the liquid showed its effect on her little brother. In the blink of moment his cheeks were flushed and he started to choke.

Aegon laughed and patted Jae's back in a soothing gesture.

"That's no wine!" Jae complained, though a ghost of a smile was tugging on his lips. "That's poison!"

 "Here…drink this," Rhaenys added gently and offered him a cup of water over the table.

Je nodded his head and drank eagerly. The coughing subsided quickly and her brother was soon smiling again.

"It is a shame to waste good wine on a child, coz," Quentyn remarked proudly.

"What would you know about it, Martell?" Robb Stark asked hotly, coming to his cousin's aid. "The last time you drank more than two cups you spent half a day in bed emptying your stomach in a bucket.”

 "Stark speaks true, coz," Aegon replied in good humour. "You have the drinking capacity of a girl. Jae has still time to master it, but you are nearly a man grown."

 The other boys roared with laughter, among them Harrold Hardyng and Robb Stark. Jae was still occupied with his cup of water.

 It was true what Robb Stark had said, but that didn't seem to please Quentyn. That was no surprise either, for many of the Dornish thought that neither Robb Stark nor Harrold Hardyng should be seated at the high table. Their father’s allies held similar views, but Aegon had insisted upon. Now that Jae had joined them it was natural that Quentyn was testing the waters.

"Spare me you your high words, Stark," Quentyn replied sourly. "You are only talking so big, because your Uncle was given the white cloak."

“My uncle fought for _his_ King,” Jae interrupted then, his dark eyes narrowed in annoyance. “Are you trying to imply that my Uncle didn’t deserve the white cloak? Are you questioning the King’s decision?”

A tense silence fell over the table. Aegon sipped nervously on his cup, Robb Stark frowned, the Redwyne twins were silent, Joffrey Connington whispered something into Loras Tyrell’s ear and Harrold Hardyng carried a tense look. Her own ladies, apart from Tyene and Obara were too engrossed with their own discussions to take notice of the brewing conflict.

“One act of goodness does not remove one’s past treachery, my Prince,” Obara added in a slightly condescending tone. “The Starks allied themselves with the rebels and tried to steal your father’s and brother’s birthrights while my people stood loyal to your father. Prince Lewyn’s white cloak should have been given to a Dornishman.”

Jae remained quiet and looked as if he was pondering over Obara’s words. Robb Stark looked less pleased, his cheeks deeply flushed as his bright blue eyes pierced into Obara’s.

“King Aerys demanded my father’s head!” Robb Stark countered hotly as ever. “What should my father have done, my Lady?  It was my Uncle Brandon who rode to King’s Landing to threaten King Rhaegar, not my father. He didn’t deserve the traitor’s death King Aerys intended for him…,” Robb Stark continued, but stopped abruptly when he found Jae’s hand resting on his shoulder.

“Tell me, Lady Obara,” Jae said and forced a smile over her lips. “How would you have dealt with the traitors?”

Obara looked thunderstruck as if she had never expected such a straightforward question. It was almost comical to see and from the corner of her seat Rhaenys’ noticed Aegon’s amused smile.

Still, Rhaenys knew that she needed to end this argument quickly, but Obara proved faster than expected.

“I would have certainly not honoured them with a white cloak,” Obara replied bluntly. “Especially, not out of favouritism.”

“Exactly, we all know that your mother is the reason your Uncle received that cloak, my Prince,” Quentyn added confidently, a smile curling on my lips. “Or do you deny that your mother has considerable influence over the King?”

Rhaenys froze and even Aegon had long placed his cup back on the table. Jae’s demeanour had also changed, his dark eyes glinting dangerously. Robb Stark looked equally furious and clenched is teeth, but Jae’s tight grip on his shoulder seemed to hold him back.

“I think that is quite enough, cousin,” Rhaenys interrupted and smiled artificially, deciding to put an end to his discussion, before it could get out of hand. “Don’t you agree, Aegon? My head is already squirming from all this quarrelling.”

“My sister speaks true,” Aegon agreed and leaned over to pat Robb Stark’s shoulder. “Instead of quarrelling about the past, we should rejoice about the newfound peace.”

Then he shifted his attention back to Quentyn. “I am sure my coz didn’t mean to insult you. Isn’t that so, Quent?”

“I suppose so. Forgive my sharp words, Stark.” Quentyn replied, his voice laced with anger. Rhaenys was pleased to hear it, but her brother Jae seemed not satisfied. His face still carried the same angered expression, his dark eyes black like obsidian as he turned to look at Aegon.

“May I ask your cousin another question, brother?” Jae asked.

Aegon nodded his head, an amused smile curling on his lips as his purple eyes flickered briefly to Rhaenys and then back to Jae.

Rhaenys clenched her teeth, knowing very well that Aegon would give his approval. He enjoyed vexing Quentyn.

“Ask your question, brother.”

“Why did Dorne resist King Aegon the First’s Conquest with such ferocity?”

It was again a very straightforward question, but then that had always been her Jae’s way.

Quentyn seemed very pleased with this question, a smile playing curling on his lips, as he met Jae’s gaze across the table.

“The answer lies in the words of House Martell, given to Queen Rhaenys by Meria Martell. _Our words are Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken. You may burn us, my lady, but you will not bend us, break us, or make us bow. This is Dorne. You are not wanted here. Return at your peril_.”

Jae nodded his head and leaned forward, a ghost of a smile tugging on his lips.

“And Queen Rhaenys did return and died for challenging the wrath of the Dornish. The same can be said about Daeron the Young Dragon and several others of my forbearers. Indeed, Dorne is a fearsome enemy and your family should be proud that they alone were able to withstand King Aegon’s dragons and Daeron the Young Dragon’s armies,” Jae added and smiled broadly at Quentyn. “You are proud of you family legacy, aren’t you, my Prince?”

Quentyn wrinkled his brows in confusion.

“Of course I am proud to be a Martell!” Quentyn declared. “Only a child could ask such a silly question.”

“Indeed,” Jae agreed, his voice suddenly laced with amusement. “And that is why I see no reason to judge House Stark more sharply than House Martell. Your House repeatedly refused to accept Targaryen rule, but at the same time you condemn my Uncle’s family for something you family did over and over again…for defending his life and family.”

“You are twisting my words,” Quentyn grumbled and frowned deeply, but Aegon silenced him with a calming smile. “I think we can all agree that both House Stark and House Martell had their moments of valour and shame, don’t you agree, Quent?”

Quentyn sighed in frustration, but accepted Aegon’s last desire to see this quarrel ended.

“I suppose so.”

For the rest of the night Quentyn remained silent while Aegon managed to find a more engrossing topic, namely the upcoming hunt. Rhaenys sighed in relieve, though Obara seemed slightly put off by the outcome of quarrel. Tyene seemed more accepting and sipped on her Arbour Gold while Rhaenys kept a close eye on her two brothers.

The festivities had died down when Ser Oswell and Ser Arthur were sent to escort the children back to their chambers. Rhaenys counted ten and two, but was still considered one of these children, though being deemed a child didn’t bother her at all, because for that very reason nobody thought it strange when she went to visit her younger brother’s chamber while carrying her fat tomcat Balerion.

Jae was already washed and garbed in his nightclothes when she entered the chamber, not much bigger than her own, though mostly empty. Her brother had yet to make this place his home.

“Do you remember my mighty dragon?” she asked her brother upon her entrance.

“Balerion!” Jae exclaimed as Rhaenys sat down on his bed. “Gods, he is even bigger than I remember. A few more years and he will be as massive as his namesake.”

Rhaenys couldn’t help but to chuckle.

“Now you are talking nonsense, brother,” she chided him and placed Balerion on the bed. He seemed unbothered, his yellow eyes two slits of molten gold. “Mayhaps, if he were to live for a hundred years. Sadly, cats don’t live that long. Bal is getting old.”

“True,” Jae conceded and brushed patted Bal’s head. “It still makes me happy to see him again.”

Rhaenys lifted her head and smiled down at her little brother. Then she ruffled her hand through his soft brown hair. Her own hair was black, though as child it had been slightly lighter, more like Jae’s. He clearly had their father’s eyes, but at times his eyes appeared black, like hers.

“And it makes me happy that you are finally here. Aegon will have need of your companionship once I leave for Dorne.”

 “You are leaving for Dorne?” he asked, shock written all over his face. “When?”

She was surprised by his lack of knowledge.

“In six moons,” she replied and leaned closer. “I thought you knew? Didn’t Dany tell you…” she trailed off.

Her answer seemed to confuse him even more and he pulled on her arm.

“What should she have told me?”

 _So she didn’t tell him_ , she realized and sighed deeply. _She must have had her reasons._

“Dany is coming with me. She is going to be one of my companions. Shaena will also go to Casterly Rock.”

Jae paled visibly and pulled away, his dark eyes wide as saucers.

“Dany would never voluntarily leave grandmother! Never!”

“Shsh,” Rhaenys chided him and touched his shoulders. “I heard you, brother, but it is the truth. By the way, it was grandmother’s decision and I happen to agree with her. Dany needs to be around other highborn girls and the same goes for Shaena.”

Jae brushed her hands away and rubbed his hands over his face.

“Gods, that is why she was so angry with me for leaving!” he muttered to himself. “I was such a fool!

“You are no fool,” Rheanys replied gently and rose back to her feet. The windows were slightly open, a cool breeze touching her skin. “I suppose Dany had her reasons, but I am sure she is going to write you in good time.”

When Rhaenys heard no answer she turned around and looked at her brother.

The look of his sad face made her heart ache, but then this was only the beginning of a long training period. King’s Landing was no place for weak of heart. Jae might not see it that way, but he was a Prince of House Targaryen and thus eligible to wear the crown. That his relatives were connected to the three kingdoms that had rebelled against their family made it even more important that her brother avoided further incidents like today.

I need to make him understand, Rhaenys thought and moved back towards Jae, who had straightened himself and sat on the edge of his bed.

“Brother,” she said meaningfully as she touched his cheek. “I will do my best to take care of Dany, but in return I want to ask a favour of you.”

“Of course,” he replied and lifted his hand to touch hers, still resting on his cheek. “What do you want me to promise you?”

“I want you to become a friend to Quentyn. I know that he wronged your cousin and it was brave of you to defend him, but you mustn’t do that again. People will not look kindly on you if you act like this.”

He frowned and dropped his hand.

“What do want me to do? “ he asked in disbelief. “Sit and watch like he insults Robb? I will never be a friend to this _spoiled brat_!”

“You know nothing,” Rhaenys replied more firmly and grabbed his face, forcing him to look at her. “Quentyn is like you. He knows only Dorne and their twisted views about your mother and siblings, but if you make him your friend both my relatives and my mother might warm up to you and will stop seeing you as a threat to Aegon.”

“I am not a threat!” Jae snapped stubbornly and entangled himself from her grasp. “I want to be a knight not a King!”

“And yet you are my father’s second oldest son,” Rhaenys countered, trying to open his mind to the truth. “I wish for my brother to prosper, but that doesn’t change the fact that you are Aegon’s heir until he has sons of his own. It does not matter that you don’t want the crown. The truth counts nothing in King’s Landing. Defending your cousin was brave, but my relatives will see it as a sign that you are more loyal to your mother’s family than your father’s. That your mother’s relatives supported Robert Baratheon makes it even worse. I am not speaking out of malice, but out of concern for your future, brother.”

Her words were met with silence.

 _He needs time_ , she realized and was about to rise to her feet, but Jae’s hand grabbed her arm to hold her back.

“I will try to be nice to Quentyn. I promise.”

“I always knew that you are a smart boy,” she replied happily and pressed a kiss against his cheek. Then she rose to her feet and walked towards the door. “Now sleep. Ser Oswell is an early riser. He has no tolerance for laziness.”

…


	4. Aegon

**Aegon**

Aegon’s shoulder ached under the force of his brother’s quick blows, but that was no surprise. Jae had always bested him when it came to swordplay while Aegon had always excelled with the lance. Yet today was no day for the lance, but the sword as Ser Arthur and Ser Oswell had insisted when they arrived at the courtyard to continue with their evening lessons.

The blades kissed and parted quickly, before they continued to exchange cuts left and right. The clinking of steel ringed in his ears at every movement and the sweat trickled down his face. It was late evening, but the heat was still stifling and made him boil beneath his padded armor.

Jae seemed to share his exhaustion. Even from afar Aegon could hear his brother’s labored breathing and yet Jae didn’t seem to tire. Again, he bombarded him with a barrage of blows, aiming at his left and weaker side.

Aegon barely managed to lift his blade in time to parry the blow, but Jae didn’t hesitate to counter-attack and slammed his shield in Aegon’s face.

Aegon stumbled backwards and his sword slipped out of his hand before he hit the ground. Luckily, he was fully-armored or he might have hurt himself.

Jae was quickly at his side, his helmet removed from his face as he grinned down at Aegon.

“The King is dead!” Jae japed and clutched Aegon’s outstretched hand with both hands, pulling him back to his feet.

“Indeed,” Aegon grunted in amusement and pulled off his own helmet, his sweat-soaked hair sticking to his face. Jae didn’t look much better, his pale long face glistening with sweat.

“And long live the King!” Aegon added cheerfully and graced Jae with a knowing smile as he recalled the silly game they had made up as children based on an anecdote from King Jaehaerys’ life.

“That was  _not bad_ ,” Ser Oswell remarked and patted Jae’s shoulder, though hearing “not bad” from Ser Oswell’s mouth was almost a compliment. 

Ser Arthur joined them as well and inspected Aegon’s face, making sure that he was unharmed, before patting his shoulder.

“There you have it, my Prince,” Ser Arthur teased. “A shield can be used for more than defense.”

Aegon frowned and brushed the sweat from his brow. He loathed shields and preferred to fight only with the sword or with the lance, but what Ser Arthur had said was true. 

“Very well,” Aegon replied. “Bring me a shield, Ser Arthur.” 

“On the morrow, my Prince,” Ser Oswell grumbled. “You two have been going at it for three rounds. The other boys are getting impatient.”

Aegon couldn’t help but to feel disappointed, but then he knew that he was not like the other boys. Nobody gave a flying fuck when a common squire earned himself a bruise or a bleeding nose, but Aegon was the Crown Prince and that meant he had to be coddled at every turn. That he was his mother’s only son made her constant worry for him only more insistent. That she should worry about her own health never occurred to her, but Aegon knew that there was no use in reasoning with his Lady Mother. She was almost as stubborn as his Uncle Oberyn.

“Let’s sit down in the shade,” Jae offered and pulled him along, towards the trees lining the other side of the courtyard, where their other companions had taken their seats. Most served as squires, but Ser Oswell and Ser Arthur were responsible to train them in the use of arms.

“I am surprised that you are not bleeding, my Prince,” Harrold Hardyng, but commonly called Harry, remarked in good-humor. He had already fought two rounds against the Redwyne twins and had beaten them without much effort, but the heat had turned his golden mane into dirty straw. “That was a nasty hit.”

“Don’t fret about it, Harry,” Aegon replied and patted Jae’s shoulder in assurance. “My brother showed me mercy.”

“Indeed,” Quentyn grumbled sourly and rose to his feet, his practice blade in hand. Joffrey, followed him, a self-assured smile curling on his lips as he stepped into the yard. Joff was only a year younger than Jae, but almost as tall as Quentyn, who apparently came after his Lady Mother or that was at least what Rhaenys had told him after she had visited their Lady Mother’s homeland. Aegon had listened eagerly to Rhaenys’ recounts, for he had never been able to visit Dorne. Aegon had also liked the prospect of having his cousin here, until he had started to make enemies with Harry and Robb. The incident with Jae had been worse, though Aegon was aware that the argument had been partly his fault.

 _Rhae is right_ , he thought and recalled the scolding his sister had given him.  _The argument got out of hand because I encouraged it._

The mock fight stared with a hesitant exchange of blows, their different temperaments easily discernible. Joff was overly aggressive while Quentyn was composed, parrying each blow with his shield and limiting his attacks with the sword to precise cuts. Quentyn was no bad fighter by any means, so much Aegon had realized over the last moons, but his attitude hadn’t brought him many friends. Harry smiled whenever Joff managed to hit Quentyn and so did Robb. Jae was silent, his dark eyes following the movements of the opponents.

Again, the blades parted and kissed half-way in the air. Joff was no bad fighter either, but he often overestimated his own abilities. 

Joff attacked enthusiastically, but his cousin stepped out of the way and hit Joff’s helmet. 

The blunted blade meeting the metal caused a ringing sound, but Quentyn didn’t leave it at that. He imitated Jae’s move and bashed his shield in Joff’s face, which sent the eager youth kissing the dirt.

“He stole your idea, cousin,” Robb remarked teasingly to Jae, who shrugged his shoulders in confusion.

“I don’t think I can lay a claim on an attack,” Jae replied and brushed his hair out of his face.

Joff was promptly pulled back to his feet by Ser Oswell, who took his time to inspect him from head to toe. Even the grim knight wouldn’t want to be confronted with Cersei Lannister’s wrath. She was a woman as frightening as beautiful, though her husband Lord Connington didn’t seem to appreciate her beauty. 

Ser Arthur helped Quentyn to pull off his armor and patted his shoulder, sending him back to rest beneath the shady tree.

As expected, his cousin grinned, but none of Aegon’s friends seemed to share his joy. On the contrary, Joff even received words of compassion, though neither Harry nor Robb called him a friend. He was much closer to the Redwyne twins and Loras Tyrell, who held some odd admiration for Joff’s beauty.

“Stop grinning, Martell,” Robb muttered in low voice, so Ser Oswell and Ser Arthur couldn’t hear him. “Yours was not a true victory. You defeated a child five years younger than you. You should fight against me or Harry.”

Quentyn’s face darkened immediately.

“Well, then let’s do it, Stark,” he declared proudly.

“Are you sure you, my Prince?” Harry asked mockingly.

“Enough for today,” Ser Oswell silenced them with a grumble and crossed his hands in front of him. “I want you all to pack your things and leave everything as clean as possible. I will look at it later and if I find the same mess as last time, I will have you muck the stables for the next three moons. I am sure the stable boy would be pleased to watch how the high lords and princes of Westeros shovel horse shit.”

Then he shifted his attention to Aegon. “I shall escort Lord Connington to the Grand Maester. His bleeding nose has need of attendance. Ser Arthur will handle everything in my absence.”

Aegon nodded his head and watched Joff and Ser Oswell leave. Even from afar he could hear Joff’s sobbing, echoing over the courtyard.

“You heard Ser Oswell,” Ser Arthur added. “We are done here for today. Pack your things and let us depart.”

Without protest they went to work. They gathered the practice blades, removed their armor and cleaned everything properly, before washing them. Once they were done, they changed into fresh clothing and departed to attend to their own business.

“Care to join me for game of cyvasse after supper, brother?” Jae asked and fastened his cloak. “Father promised to join us.”

“I fear I cannot,” Aegon replied, his gaze darting back to Quentyn, who was still occupied with his boots. As always, he seemed unaware of the hostile stares he was receiving from Harry, Robb and the Redwyne twins.  _I need to make him understand_ , Aegon realized then.

“Aegon!” Jae called out to him, calling him back to the present.

“Of course,” Aegon confirmed with a smile. “I would be pleased to join you and father.”

Jae smiled. “Shall we go then?”

Aegon shook his head.

“I shall join you later,” Aegon promised. “There is something I need to do.”

“I see,” Jae replied, his dark eyes briefly darting to Quentyn, before he slipped out of the room.

Aegon exhaled deeply and made his way towards his cousin, who had finally managed to put on his boots.

“I think we need to talk, coz,” Aegon began and tried to sound as calm as possible. He didn’t want to start a fight. “Have you ever considered making friends with my companions?”

Quentyn frowned. “They hate me not the other way around.”

“They don’t hate you,” Aegon countered. “They are annoyed by you, but that is something that could be easily changed.”

Quentyn frowned again.

“How?

“Stop acting as if you are better than them,” Aegon pointed out and Quentyn opened his mouth in protest, but Aegon silenced him with a wave of his hand. “I know what you are thinking. They are the sons of traitors, but I say they are also the heirs to two great houses. By looking down on them you are undermining all my efforts to make them my friends. Say what you want, but once I am King I will have need of them as my allies.”

Quentyn fell silent and pondered over his words. Then he lowered his head in acceptance.

“You have a point there, coz,” Quentyn granted him. “I shall try my best…Will you also hear my advice for you?”

Aegon was surprised by his agreement.

“I shall hear your advice, coz.”

“You shouldn’t allow your brother to utter such words as he did today. That was most unfitting.”

Aegon was confused.

“What are you referring to, coz?”

“I am referring to the words he used after he defeated you,” Quentyn explained. “You cannot allow him to act like that, even if it is only meant in jesting.”

Finally, Aegon understood what he was referring to. To his shame he started to laugh.

“Oh, no!” Aegon stuttered and tried his best to regain his composure. “You misunderstood that completely, coz. You see…it is part of a game.”

Quentyn looked stunned.

“A game?”

Aegon nodded his head and tried to recall the rules of the game he and Jon had made up when they were six years old. 

“The game is called  _The King is dead long live the King_ ,” he explained. “We used to play it with the servant boys in Dragonstone. Seven boys would pose as members of the Kingsguard and one as the King and a girl as the Good Queen, who was meant to crown the chosen King with a laurel of flowers or give him a kiss on the cheek if he managed to defeat all seven Kingsguard members, though that rarely happened. Most of the time one of the members of the Kingsguard managed to kill the King and would then proclaim, ‘The King is dead!’ whereupon the others would chant. ‘Long live the King!’. See, no reason to fret about, coz.”

Quentyn gave him a disbelieving look.

“I still do not think is a good idea that your brother came here,” Quentyn replied and fastened his cloak. “I doubt it will be good for your mother’s health.”

“What you say is true,” Aegon granted him. “But my mother is also the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. She knows that her personal feelings do not stand above what is best for the realm. My brother’s presence here may pain her, but even my mother knows how important it is that I nurse a good relationship with my brother. One day I will be King and then I want my brother seated at my council and not trying to stir up a rebellion against me.”

Quentyn had listened in silence and frowned.

“I suppose you are right,” Quentyn granted him at last and exhaled deeply. “What would you have me do?”

“Show him that House Martell does not judge children for their parent’s actions. Try being a friend to my brother, Harry and Robb.”

Quentyn gave him an unsure look.

“Sadly, I do not know how.”

Aegon smiled at him and leaned over to pat his shoulder.

“Apologizing is always a good start,” Aegon suggested. “Next time you see Robb you could tell him that you welcome his Uncle’s entrance into the Kingsguard. Robb is proud, but not someone who declines an honest apology. Once you have convinced one of them the others will surely follow.”

Quentyn looked surprised.

“You want me to apologize to them?” Quentyn asked. “They are…” he began, but Aegon’s shaking head silenced him.

“See,” Aegon said and sighed deeply. “That is your problem. You need to stop seeing them as the sons of traitors and potential enemies.”

“But they are potential enemies!” Quentyn reinforced. “You will be their King. By treating them as your friends you are showing weakness. I am not speaking out of malice, but out of concern. Trust is not a virtue a King should develop, especially not towards those who have shown disloyalty before.”

“Their fathers have shown disloyalty, but not the sons,” Aegon insisted, slowly losing his patience. “Why is it for you so hard to understand that I cannot just be a Targaryen or a Dornish King? There are Seven Kingdoms and this includes the rebel kingdoms.”

Quentyn nodded his head.

“I understand you well, coz and I shall follow your advice, but let me tell you this: show them too much trust and they will betray you. Such was the fate of many kings.”

Aegon exhaled deeply and nodded his head, acknowledging for the first time that there was more to Quentyn. He wasn’t speaking out of pride, but out of concern.

“I understand.”

…


	5. Daenerys

**Daenerys**

The water was scalding, but that is how Dany liked it.  _The hotter the better_ , she thought as she watched the other girls seated on each corner of the rectangular pool made of pink marble. The wall paintings were equally splendid, decorated with all kinds of fearsome creatures, among them birds like peacocks and others Dany couldn’t identify. When she first came to Dorne she had imagined it as a dusty place too far away from home, but now that she had learned of its splendors and customs, she came to appreciate Dorne’s beauty.

And yet her heart still longed for home, for Dragonstone and most importantly her mother, Lady Lyanna, Shae, Jae and little Daeron. The first year had been the hardest on her, but Rhaenys’ presence had made the last three years easier to endure. She tried her best not to show it, but that is how she felt, especially now as her thirteenth nameday was drawing closer every day. That she had recently flowered worried her even more.  _Your mother will have to decide, sweet child_ , Lady Mallario, Prince Doran’s wife had told her during their last visit. Dany knew very well that the Lady had referred to a potential match between her and her oldest son, a boy she had never met and had no intention to wed.  _Viserys will soon be wed and then I will go home. I will tell mother and she will understand._

“Daenerys, you are dreaming again,” Joanna Connington’s soft-spoken voice called her back to the present. Like Dany she was as naked as her nameday, her ringlets of golden hair spilling over her shoulder like a shroud of gold. Like Dany she had come to Dorne to serve as Rhaenys’ companion. Dany’s own companions were also there. It was her Lady Mother who had chosen them for her. There was Lady Gwyneth Yronwood, the youngest daughter of Cletus Yronwood and the other Lady Lyarra Sand, Prince Oberyn’s step-daughter.

“Forgive me,” Dany apologized quickly and lifted her head to find everyone staring at her. “I was lost in thoughts.”

Arianne, the oldest of their group and Prince Doran’s only daughter, grinned broadly, baring her pearl white teeth to the world.

“No need to apologize,” Arianne assured her and sank deeper into the steaming water, her black hair flowing around her like tendrils and reaching out for her large breasts. Dany, to her shame, had always envied her for her attributes. She had hoped it would change over the years, but at ten and three her breasts remained small and firm as ever. Rhaenys had told her it was no use to fret about such things, but Dany couldn’t help but to wonder if there was something wrong with her. “I have been wondering what kind of gift I could give you for your nameday, sweet Princess? Ten and three is an important age. The right age for plucking…I am sure Ser Daemon would be prepared to do it. By now he must have learned a few tricks from Tyene.”

Dany couldn’t help but to blush when the girls around her started to giggle. She had always liked Arianne’s frankness, because she reminded her of Shae, but at other times Dany wasn’t sure if she was just joking with her. Said Daemon Sand was also known as the bastard of Godsgrace and heir to House Allyrion. He was also a fine swordfighter and not without beauty. Even Rhaenys, who was always rather dignified in front of men, had blushed deeply when they came about him one morning as he stumbled half-naked out of Arianne’s chambers. Rhaenys had scolded Arianne for endangering the innocence of her ladies and Dany. Little did she know that by then Dany had seen a good dozen of naked men stumbling out of Arianne’s chambers. Her first she had seen on the day of her arrival and the last she had seen only a day ago. In truth, it would be odd to find the Princess alone and without male attendance.

Still, it was not Ser Daemon Sand, one of Arianne’s bedwarmers she wanted to give her maidenhead to. It should be someone she held affections for, but Ser Daemon Sand had never spoken more than a few sentences to her, though she couldn’t deny that she found him alluring, something that could be said about many young men she had made the acquaintance of while residing in Dorne. Yet lust and love were not the same for her. In this matter, she and Arianne differed from each other, though she hadn’t minded learning from her how to give to oneself and others pleasure. That her mother would probably never speak if she gave away her maidenhead was another reason, though she kept that to herself. She didn’t want to appear like some foolish little girl in front Arianne, who was so more experienced than her in such matters.

“A kind offer,” Dany replied and smiled. “But I have to decline. I shall wait a while longer.”

“To reserve it for your Lord husband you mean,” Arianne teased, though not in a cruel manner. “Well, if my mother gets her wishes you are going to wed my brother and I doubt he knows anything about these matters.”

“I am not going to marry your brother,” Dany replied tensely and couldn’t help but to frown. “You know that.”

“Thank the gods,” Arianne remarked and her dark eyes darted to Rhaenys, who had been strangely quiet throughout the whole evening. It was not the first time that Dany had noticed her melancholic demeanor, but she hadn’t found it worth thinking about until now. All her brother’s children, safe for Aegon, had their regular bouts of melancholy, though Jae and Shae tended to be the worst.

“What about you, Rhaenys? Are you not longing for one last adventure before your impending marriage?”

Rhaenys frowned like always when Arianne was teasing her about her impending marriage to Willas Tyrell. Dany had met him only once as did Rhaenys when they had been invited to a tourney in honor of Lady Margaery Tyrell’s nameday. And what a grand event it had been. The whole tourney had lasted six days. Six days of jousting, music, dance and puppet shows. Dany had been enchanted by the event, though she had been more than sad when neither Aegon nor Jae had attended the tourney. Rhaenys had been equally disappointed, though contrary to Arianne’s belief, her niece Rhaenys had been rather taken with the heir to Highgarden. And why should she not? Willas Tyrell had a pleasant appearance and was well-read like Rhaenys. Dany, who had always loved reading, had felt like a fool as the two of them had discussed their last readings. Later that night she had seen them hold hands and share a cup, but what had happened afterwards she didn’t know. Ser Lyle had escorted her back to bed, because Rhaenys had deemed her too young to stay up for the rest of the celebrations.

“I have no need of adventures, cousin,” Rhaenys replied distantly. “As you said…I am to be wed and I would never endanger my match in such a foolish manner. Nor would Daenerys destroy her future by giving up her maidenhead for a cheap night of pleasure.”

Then Rhaenys shifted her attention to Joanna Lannister and Gwyneth Yronwood, who had long crawled out of the water, their towels wrapped around their bodies to conceal their nakedness. Only Lyarra remained in the water, not far from Dany and seemed slightly flustered by the current topic. “The same goes for the rest of my ladies.”

If Arianne was insulted by Rhaenys’ sharp words, it didn’t show on her face.

“As you please,” Arianne replied at last and stepped out of the pool, climbing up the slightly curvy steps. Unlike the other girls she had no shame whatsoever and stood there naked, wringing out her hair over the pool of water. “I was just trying to do you a favor, cousin. Besides, I doubt Mace Tyrell would care about your past adventures. The Fat Flower of Highgarden would strip naked and run circles around the Red Keep just to see one of his children wed to one of Targaryen blood.”

Lady Lyarra laughed and smiled gently.

“Father says that Lord Mace Tyrell had been licking the Kings boots for weeks after his heir had been crippled, because he feared the King might undo the betrothal. Father had been very amused to hear this. It helped to ease his wounded pride after Lord Mace had suggested that my father had crippled Lord Willas on purpose.”

Her father’s ironic assessment she had relayed in a gentle and kind demeanor, though Dany knew that there resided a little wolf in her breast whenever she climbed atop a horse. Dany had always prided herself on her abilities in horsemanship, but Lyarra was not only a good rider, but half a horse. Not even her step-sister Elia could outrace her.

“What happened to Willas is no reason to be amused,” Rhaenys added sourly. “He nearly died.”

Lyarra blushed in embarrassment and Dany touched her shoulder to re-assure her.

“It’s in the past,” Dany countered. “The marriage between you and Willas should help to ease the tension.”

Arianne howled with laughter.

“Oh, you don’t know my father, sweet Princess. He will never forget and never forgive. You will have to wait until I follow into my father’s position to see such a change,” Arianne explained and slipped on a thin orange robe offered to her by Gwyneth Yronwood. “Mayhaps, I should wed Garlan Tyrell. Now that would surely kill my Lord Father.”

“Arianne!” Rhaenys chided her, but Arianne only laughed. “I was just jesting, cousin. Don’t take everything so seriously.”

Dany sighed, crawled out of the water and pulled on a blue summer dress easily fastened with a turquoise sash.

“Here, Princess,” Lady Lyarra offered and handed her a pair of sandals. “Do you need help?”

Dany shook her head and pulled own her sandals, before shifting her attention back to Rhaenys. Joanna was at her side, helping her to wring out her waist-long hair while Dany helped Lyarra and Gwyneth Yronwood.

When they had all dressed, they followed Arianne back into her private solar, where they supped on chicken roasted with lemon and honey. Accompanied was the dish by leaves stuffed with mélange of raisins, onions, mushrooms and fiery dragon peppers. It was a heavenly meal, though Rhaenys claimed she was not hungry and retired early, taking with her the rest of her ladies.

“I have a letter for you and Rhaenys,” Arianne explained and handed her the folded parchment. “The raven came this morning. It’s the letter you have hoping for…your brother is going to be wed, four moons from now.”

Dany’s heart made a summersault and with a trembling hand she unfolded the parchment, reading it eagerly.

She couldn’t believe it. She was finally going home.

“I thank you!” she told Arianne. “I shall tell Rhaenys about it later.”

Arianne smiled and settled herself on a cushioned chair, allowing her to watch the descending sun through the open windows.

“What else is on your mind, sweet Princess?” Arianne asked her, breaking the silence that had fallen over them as Dany was re-reading the letter. “Are you not happy?”

“Of course,” Dany replied and pulled her feet to her chest. “But something is wrong with Rhaenys.”

“Rhaenys is getting cold feet before her wedding,” Arianne told her with a knowing smile and brushed her wet curls over her shoulder. “And that is why she got all huffy when I teased her about it.”

“So, you did it intentionally?” Dany asked.

“I wanted to draw her out,” Arianne explained. “It seems I failed miserably.”

Dany shrugged her shoulders, feeling the weariness in her bones. They had spent all day outside, riding and watching the younger Sandsnakes at play. Dany had joined them in their games, but Rhaenys had spent half the evening staring on her half-read book.

“I shall find out what plagues her,” Dany decided right there. “Wait and see.”

“Good luck then, sweet Princess,” Arianne replied and graced her with one last smile as Dany walked to the door, back to Rhaenys chambers. Dany had her own chambers, which she shared with Lady Lyarra and Lady Yronwood, but it was not uncommon that she slept in Rhaenys’ bed.

“Rhae!” she called out to her cousin, who was already garbed in her nightgown and was standing near the open window. Dusk had long settled over the city and the first stars glittered on the distant horizon. The moon was also there, full and ripe like a fruit. “May I come in?”

“Please,” Rhae replied, rose to her feet and slipped back beneath the bedding. “Can’t you sleep?”

Dany followed her example after she had pulled the sash from her hips and had unlaced her sandals. It was a soft feather bed, covered with numerous golden suns. Dany sank into the bedding, pulled the folded letter from the pocket of her dress and showed it to Rhaenys.

“Mother wrote to me. Viserys is getting wed…four moons from now.”

Rhaenys smiled at first, then grimaced.

“Then we will have to leave soon,” Rhaenys concluded and took the letter. “To the Vale.”

“Probably,” Dany replied and changed into a cross-legged position. “My mother also writes that the King is going to send us an escort, Ser Arthur Dayne and a scone of spears, to see us safely to Winterfell. They should arrive after your nameday.”

Rhaenys sighed deeply and fiddled with the hem of her dress. Dany realized only now that she hadn’t been listening.

Dany sighed in frustration and brushed her hair out of her face.

She was done dancing around Rheanys. It was time to address the elephant in the room.

“What is going on with you?” she asked and leaned over to touch Rhaenys’s shoulder. “Arianne thinks you are getting cold feet. You could go to the King and ask him to lift the betrothal. Mayhaps, Shae might be prepared to one of Mace Tyrells sons.”

Rhaenys sighed. “I like Willas, but there is something that has been occupying my mind lately. It never occurred to me before, but now my heart is clutched by fear whenever I think of the future.”

Dany was utterly confused.

“What do you mean?”

“I am not referring to the next two years, but the next ten or twenty years. My Lady Mother told me once that she had been happy on her wedding day to bring honor to House Martell, but now both she and my father are involved with other people. My father has to hide Lady Lyanna at Dragonstone and my mother has her own entanglement with Ser Arthur,” she explained, finally revealing her thoughts to Dany. “What if it will be the same between me and Willas? He has a twisted leg, but he will be the Lord of Highgarden while I am meant to bear his sons and watch him rule. Who says that he won’t lose interest in my once my task is complete? I also don’t like Lord Mace Tyrell. He sees me as nothing more than a tool for power.”

Dany had listened to her words in silence, sharing her doubts and fears.

“Speak to your father,” Dany suggested again. “Ask him to delay the wedding. There is no shame in that.”

“No,” Rhaenys replied and fisted the seam of her dress. “It would only make it harder. Besides, my mother would never forgive me if I refuse such a good match.”

“But….,” Dany was about to protest, but Rhaenys shook her head, took her hand and kissed her knuckles. Then she slung her arm around Dany’s shoulder and held her close.

“I am tired,” Rhaenys whispered. “Please, let us stop this discussion.”

Dany slipped further beneath the bedding and took her hand. “Do you mind if I stay?”

“Of course not,” Rhaenys replied lovingly and brushed Dany’s hair out of her face. “And I apologize for my ill-mood. Your nameday is approaching and I am acting like a child.”

Dany snuggled closer and placed her head on Rhaenys’ shoulder, her eyes growing heavy with sleep. “Your feelings are not childish. At least I don’t think so.”

“I wish it was so easy,” whispered Rhaenys and placed a kiss on Dany’s brow.

Then she drifted off to sleep.

The next weeks passed slowly, though Dany tried her best to occupy her anxious mind.  _Five years_ , she thought, her heart thudding anxiously in her chest.  _After five years I am finally going home._

Not only would she finally see her brother Viserys, but also her nephews. Day in and day out, she tried to imagine what they looked like. Aegon had always been tall. By now he must be at least as tall her brother Rhaegar. Jae was always a bit smaller and thus she imagined him a head shorter. Then, there were her other two nephews. Daeron, who was now nearly eight years old and little Aemon, who she had never had to pleasure to meet. Lady Lyanna had birthed him a year after her departure and he counted now nearly four namedays.

“Stop dreaming your dreaming. We need to greet our guests!” Arianne called out to Dany, who was seated on the windowsill and was watching the courtyard below.

Now they were finally here. Even from afar she saw the waving banners of the three-headed dragon, led by no other than Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning. The sight of the white cloak sent her heart into another frenzy, but soon her mind was otherwise occupied. Clumsily, she pulled on her sandals and followed after Arianne to join Rhaenys.

Dany was not the only one who had anticipated this day, but Arianne had been busy preparing for the arrival of their guests for weeks. Naturally, there would be a feast in honor of their departure and even Prince Doran Martell had announced his attendance, though it was Arianne who greeted their guests.

Aegon hadn’t changed much since she had last laid eyes on him. He still carried the same mischievous smile as he leaned down to place a kiss on her hand.

“You have grown into a beauty, Aunt Daenerys,” Aegon complimented, before he shifted his attention to Rhaenys.

“I thank you for coming here to escort us to Winterfell, brother,” Rhaenys replied warmly and kissed Aegon’s cheek. “But your smiles shouldn’t be for us, brother, but for our gracious hostess, Princess Arianne.”

“Of course,” Aegon replied and angled his head to look at Princess Arianne. She had taken great care to dress herself and wore a striped dress of red, yellow and orange silk. On her breast shone the golden sun of House Martell and around her neck dangled a silver necklace with emerald stones. “Forgive my bad manners, Princess. I am very pleased to be here in Dorne.”

Arianne grinned and allowed Aegon to place a kiss on her hand.

“Not need for apologies, cousin. We are pleased to have you here in Dorne. A feast has been prepared in your honor and my father will be pleased to meet you.”

The men that had accompanied Aegon seemed delighted at the prospect of a meal. Dany counted around a hundred men, all of them armed in black cloaks embellished with the three-headed dragon. Most of them were knights, but some of the younger ones must be squires.

One of them caught her eye. His armor told her that he was a knight, but he looked far too young to bear such a title. That he had dyed-blue hair confused her only more, but that was not what had caught her interest. There was something about his pale face that was strangely familiar, though she couldn’t place what it was.

Lady Lyarra patted Dany’s shoulder when she noticed her staring. “He must be from Essos.”

“He must be from Tyrosh,” added Lady Gwyneth Yronwood. Dany nodded her head, but she couldn’t help but to disagree. She had seen men from Tyrosh, but this young man had far too pale skin to hail from Tyrosh.  _Mayhaps he is only half-Tyroshi_ , she wondered and stepped into the Great Hall, where the servants were busy to prepare everything for the feast. Just the sight of the food made her mouth water.

They served honeyed duck, honeyed chicken, ribs roasted in a crust of garlic and herbs, crab drenched in butter and different kinds of seafood only native to Dorne. After the main course they served at least a dozen of different pastries and fresh summer wine for their guests, though the Dornish preferred to drink their own wine, this sour brew that never failed to make Dany’s tongue twist.

As the guests of honor, Ser Arthur and Aegon were seated at the high table next to Prince Doran, who seemed more than pleased to finally meet his nephew. At times she even saw him smile, though that was no surprise to her.  Aegon always had the ability to coax a smile from the grimmest of man. Rhaenys was also seated there, though she hardly participated in the conversation.

Strangely, Dany couldn’t help but to share her disappointment.

She was happy to see Aegon, but she also longed to see her other nephews, though she also understood why that couldn’t be. The Dornish never voiced these thoughts directly to her face, especially after she had expressed her friendly inclinations towards Lady Lyanna and her children, but she was nevertheless aware of the prevailing opinion in Dorne, namely, that Lady Lyanna had bewitched her brother with magic and that her children were in truth bastards, who had no business to call themselves royalty.

Dany disagreed vehemently with this notion, but her Lady Mother had thought her that the best way to get along was, to accept things as they were, though sometimes it took all her willpower to keep her mouth shut.

Dany herself was seated a little below the high table and was kept company by her friends, Lady Lyarra Sand and Lady Gwyneth Yronwood. Both girls had taken great care to dress themselves, though the two girls had no need for such fancies. Lady Lyarra wore a white dress, red flowers woven into her dark curls while Lady Yronwood chose a yellow long-sleeved dress that hid her dainty figure. Her shoulder-length dark hair was covered with a glittering hairnet. Dany herself chose a lilac summer dress, embellished with small pearls and a silver hairnet that was wound around her braided silver hair.

“They say it snows all year in the North,” Gwyneth Yronwood remarked. “I asked my father to send me pelts.”

“We are not going to stay in Winterfell for long,” Dany assured Lady Yronwood promptly and took a sip from her cup. “Besides, Winterfell was built on hot springs. I heard it is pleasantly warm inside the castle walls.”

“I thought my cousin has never visited Winterfell,” Lyarra remarked with a stunned expression. She shouldn’t have underestimated her good memory.

“You are quite right,” Dany admitted and leaned closer, whispering in her ear while Lady Gwyneth was speaking to Lady Joanna. “Lady Lyanna told me. I just thought it would better not to mention her name.”

“Oh,” Lyarra said and smiled. “Well, I shall be pleased to meet my Uncle Eddard and my Aunt Lyanna. My mother speaks well of her, no matter what my relatives say. She must be a very beautiful woman if she managed to steal the King from Queen Elia.”

“She is beautiful,” Dany confirmed. “But it is a different kind of beauty.”

“Speaking of beauty,” Lyarra remarked and pointed at the opposing table. “The Tyroshi has been admiring your beauty.”

Dany was lifted her head to get a look at the young man. He was seated at one of the lower tables, his attention directed at his companions. There was something familiar about his smile.

 _Mayhaps I have met him before_ , she wondered and was startled when the young man lifted his head to look at her.

Dany couldn’t help but to blush and to be surprise by his forwardness. Even Arianne’s brazen bed companions would have never dared to look at her like this.

Surprisingly, she liked the idea.

 _A daring fellow_ , she thought and brought her cup to her lips. She drank deeply, a tingle of excitement running down her back as he continued to smile at her.  _A daring fellow._

“Dany,” Lyarra’s voice called her back to the present. “Did you hear what I said?”

“Forgive me,” Dany apologized and patted her arm. “I was distracted.”

“Oh, I know why,” Lyarra remarked with a knowing smile. “Do you want to meet him? I could arrange something. Just leave it to me, Dany.”

Dany blushed, her cheeks suddenly aflame.

“I don’t think we should do that,” she protested hesitatingly, but Lyarra’s grin silenced her.

“Oh, come on. You are even worse than Rhaenys. I will go with you,” Lyarra assured her, which was enough to win Dany over.

“Very well,” Dany complied. “Go and speak to him. We shall excuse ourselves for a moment, to catch fresh air.”

Lyarra grinned and went to work. She gathered her skirts and went to speak to the boy, who flashed a smile at Dany after he had spoken to Lyarra.

 _Such brazenness_ , Dany thought, her heart skipping a beat.  _Well, I shall teach him some manners._

Then he left the hall, probably to seek out the gardens as Dany had suggested to Lyarra. Dany and Lyarra followed suit and stepped out to the gardens.

The heavy scent of flowers filled her nostrils as they descended the steps towards a line of cider trees. It was a starry night and the moonlight provided them with plenty of light.

The brazen boy waited for them near one of the fountains, his head slightly dipped as he stepped towards them.

“Princess Daenerys,” he greeted her and lifted his head to smile at her. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

Dany felt like hit by thunder as she took in the pale face cast in a glimmer of moonlight.

 _Impossible_ , she thought as she took in the young man’s features, the long face, the straight nose and the full lips. Yet it were his dark eyes with a touch of purple that betrayed his identity.  _My brother’s eyes._

The brazen boy’s smile grew only wider.

“It seems you finally recognize me.”

Dany didn’t know if she wanted to scold him or hug him.

“Who is that? Do you know him?” she heard Lyarra’s questions echoing in hears as she hauled herself at the brazen fool.

He caught her and whirled her around, their laughter echoing over the gardens.

“You have grown!” was all she managed to say, her heart beating wildly as her nephew placed her back on her two feet. He looked and smelled different. Of sand, flowers and sweat. It was a pleasant smell, but Lyarra was still standing there, calling for her attention.

“He is an old friend,” she assured Lyarra, but quickly shifted her attention back to her nephew, who was still grinning down at her. “There is no need to fret. Could you give us a moment?”

Lyarra gave her an unsure look, but didn’t protest, before slipping away. This was something she valued about Lyarra. She never asked uncomfortable questions and knew how to keep her mouth shut.

“You are still small,” Jae remarked teasingly and promptly received slap on the shoulder.

“And you are a fool for coming here!” she couldn’t help but to chide him while hugging him again. “Was this Aegon’s brilliant idea or yours? Imagine someone finds out…”

“It was indeed Aegon’s idea,” Jae confirmed amusedly and entangled himself from her grip. “But father is also aware of our ploy. Besides, I doubt anyone expects that a Prince is sleeping in the stables. Are you not happy to see me?”

“Of course,” Dany confirmed and clutched his hand. “But I do not wish to see you harmed.”

His expression softened immediately and he squeezed her hand.

“I can take care of myself, Dany.”

…


End file.
